


i'll walk on that line, stuck on that bridge between us

by maureenbrown



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Almost Kiss, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, okay tbh ron/viktor is mentioned a couple times it's most f/f
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:05:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9633206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maureenbrown/pseuds/maureenbrown
Summary: When the Triwizard Tournament popped up in Hermione’s midst, she was more than grateful for the extra opportunity to spend it with the Weasley’s. Harry was supposed to arrive in three days’ time, and while she missed her best friend, her hours with the family did not go to waste.





	

When the Triwizard Tournament popped up in Hermione’s midst, she was more than grateful for the extra opportunity to spend it with the Weasley’s. Harry was supposed to arrive in three days’ time, and while she missed her best friend, her hours with the family did not go to waste.

“I hope you won’t mind sleeping with me for a change. Now that Harry’s coming, there’s a lot less space in this house.” Ginny tells her, her cheeks flushed from the humid air billowing in through the curtains that try and shard the window from further turmoil.

“No, of course not! It’ll be nice to have some company for a change.” Hermione tells her honestly, and Ginny bites her lower lip delicately to hide her blooming smile.

It has not gone unnoticed by Hermione that Ginny has been altered through her time in the Chamber of Secrets. As disastrous and horrid as the situation was, Ginny had learned independence and gotten a much sharper tongue in the amount of time, which Hermione has found admirable. In addition, Ginny had created close ties with her family and Hermione herself.

Hermione can only find one word for the time she spends with Ginny, and it is enjoyable. It’s easy and simple, with black, frizzy curls intertwined with thin, sleek red hair. It’s freckled noses scrunching up when Hermione makes the occasional joke, and Ginny’s fingertips running down her dark skin to follow the curves of her jawbone and cheek when she smiles. Their relationship is personal to say the least, and Hermione hasn’t felt as giddy with Ginny as with anybody else.

Ginny is refreshing, like a cool breeze blustering through the window. Hermione is the hearth, waiting to be brushed out.

...

“Krum is attractive, yeah?” Ginny asks offhandedly, though she tips her head up to gain Hermione’s attention. Their palms are resting together, Hermione having brought nail polish to show her the wonders of teenage Muggle technology.

“I guess you could say so. He certainly flies well.” Hermione murmurs observantly, highly acute to the way Ginny’s attention seems rapt, following the course of her voice and the way her lips purse together, even if it only is to concentrate on not skimming the green polish from her trembling fingers.

“Do you have a crush on anybody, Hermione?” Ginny blurts, and the other witch is reminded that she’s only in her third year, not that it makes her any more superior. Sometimes Ginny shows her childish tendencies, which have shown to be endearing. Despite Ginny being the youngest child of the Weasley’s, Hermione is concerned that she’s had to grow up too soon, especially being exposed to the wizarding world and its countless problems.

“I don’t think so.” Hermione responds evenly after remembering she’s supposed to respond out of courtesy and Ginny’s awaited appeasement. “Do you?”

Ginny shrugs, her startling eyes never leaning Hermione’s even if she doesn’t gaze back. “I think I like someone in my year.” She tells her hesitantly, and the girl hums.

“Who?” Hermione asks, because of course she’s prone to curiosity. She switches out her hands after alerting Ginny not to touch the other in fear of botching up her already somewhat messy paint job, taking her other rough, calloused palm back into her own.

“Guess. You probably won’t be able to figure it out.” Ginny says, and a smile prick at Hermione’s lips.

“Is it… Colin Creevey?” Hermione guesses at random, despite anticipating her wrinkled expression and shake of her head.

“I hardly know people in your year, Gin. I think he’s the only one I’m aware of.” Hermione tells her after a couple more minutes of thinking.

Ginny sighs but seems to jest that it’s fair enough, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I think I have a crush on Luna Lovegood.”

A girl. Ginny likes girls. A strange press is applied to her gut, and her hand halts abruptly, the nail polish knocking over onto her skin and spreading a lined mark.

“Oh?” Hermione says, and glances up at Ginny finally. The girl appears to be half mortified, half curious.

Quickly, to appease her from further intrusive thoughts, Hermione slips her hand into Ginny’s, not minding when the polish sticks against their palms. “It’s alright to have feelings for girls, you know. It’s just as natural as having feelings for both.” She assures her genuinely, not even thinking twice about the words that pour from her lips.

“I like boys, too.” Ginny tells her softly, as if Hermione needs assurance instead.

“That’s okay, too.” Hermione reminds her before reaching out to tuck a strand of Ginny’s hair behind her pointed, almost imp-like ear naturally. “Whoever you love is okay. I hope you have good luck with Luna, she seems like a kind girl.” In all honesty, Hermione doesn’t completely approve of Luna’s airy ways, but…

“Thank you, Hermione.” Ginny whispers, no longer hesitant. Her eyes become closed and she smiles warmly, tilting his head into her hand and flattening her cheek against Hermione’s palm, smearing some more goopy liquid in an emerald smudge.

It causes them both to laugh, and bottles are knocked over, and Hermione’s ribs burn. Ginny is freezing. She is electrifying and fresh.

...

“Are you excited for the Tournament?” Ginny whispers in to the inky darkness, overwhelming and just as overbearing as the blanket covering them both. Every now and then, Ginny’s toes with touch Hermione’s, or her chest will lay flat against her hunched back. Right now her breath ghosts against the back of her neck, causing a chill to run down her spine and her heart to speed up sporadically.

“Yes. I think it will be a nice experience in the long run. And whatever happens… It could be a moment to go down in history. Imagine if we witnessed it!” Hermione says. Truthfully, she doesn’t know much about Quidditch, but they hype exuberating off of her friends and companions in the house has been enough to get her in a jive.

“Ron is practically in love with Krum already. I think with all the excitement tomorrow, he’s either going to start crying or pass out, win or lose.” Ginny snorts, Hermione lazy and exhausted enough to not hide her giggles in return.

There’s a soft press of skin against the back of her nightshirt, but she doesn’t dare turn around. Ginny’s breathing is silent behind her, and Hermione can feel the heat radiating off her body in the slim twin bed, staying cozy underneath the covers.

Ginny slips her arm around Hermione’s waist, collecting her body and scooting closer. Hermione, as if sealing the deal and giving her permission, rests her head back on her shoulder.

They both sleep easily that night.

...

“Hermione, could you come here?” Ginny asks, her voice a raspy whisper from across the dark, foreboding room. Their tent is exquisite, larger than it would appear to be on the outside. The inside is expansive, and while Hermione enjoys the luxury of her own bedding, she’s used to being accompanied by a taller, slimmer body than hers. She misses the legs wedged between hers, the secure chin resting on her shoulder...

“Hermione?” Ginny repeats, a little louder, hesitant now in case she’s being ignored.

“Sorry, yes. Scoot over.” Hermione alerts her, rubbing her tired, restless eyes and shoving the covers off. She hears the rustling of Ginny’s own, shuffling across the room until her knees hit the firm wood of the beam that supports the mattress. It’s still a twin sized bed, and Hermione relaxes as she plops herself down, swinging her legs up.

Her friend is facing her, the blankets pulled open invitingly. Hermione settles, feeling warm breath fanning across her lips and chin, her eyes closed though she can feel Ginny’s electrifying own gazing insistently.

“Get some rest.” Hermione says, sternly. It’s difficult to breath, the heat now almost stifling.

Ginny’s nose bumps up against hers, and they nuzzle them together fondly. Hermione’s heart is thumping erratically, and Ginny reaches out to place a calming hand on her hip, brushing over the chub exposed almost reassuringly.

“Goodnight, Hermione.” She murmurs, and Hermione dips her head, allowing their lips to brush, almost feeling the shudder that travels down her back, innocent yearning along with it.

“Sleep well, Gin.”

**Author's Note:**

> written for hp femslash secret santa ~~


End file.
